Covet the flesh like one covets the wounds buried deep.
Over this wreck of will, we climb slowly.
Feel the flames lick ur toes?
Feel the forks peircing your flesh?
Wake up and witness the hell you helped create.
A minds worth of blood spilled.
Destrucion washing over us like the rain of a spring eve.
Kinda feels like sex.
Drinking tea under the blood red moon.
Wondering if this all had a rhyme, a reason.
To delute the souls and fleace the heard of man.
Nothing but the skeletol statue hanging from the gallows of ill convictions.
We all have our number....
Waiting until yours is called.
I.R.M 01/29/07
